Silver Blades and Dirty Dancing
by CelerySticks90
Summary: Don has a problem with cutting after difficult cases, so Colby takes matters into his own hands. Pre-slash, no explicit smut, some bad words and contains cutting/suicidal thoughts. Will probably be rated to M. Also thank you for my supporters I LOVE YOU ALL. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't own the characters or anything else..**

**Summary: Don feels hopeless. Colby shows him he cares. Slight slash and maybe established relationship. reference to Don cutting and thinking of suicide.**

Don parked his car on a cliff that had a spectacular view of the whole city of LA; most of it anyway. It was midnight and Don couldn't sleep so he came out here with a bottle of Jack Daniels trying to drown his sorrows of the last case that didn't go so well. They didn't get to the girls in time, all because of him. He was responsible for causing (however indirectly) the deaths of the three little girls who hadn't even had the chance to live. He took a swig straight from the bottle, and felt the alcohol numb his pain a little. He didn't do this often, come up here in the middle of the night and try to forget that he had the world's worst and best job at the same time; try to forget about one of the worst cases of his career.

He forced himself to take another sip from the bottle, even though he knew it wouldn't do him any good, he was too upset to get drunk. Right now, he felt like curling up and crying in a place where no one would see. But he couldn't do that, he was supposed to be brass-balls Don Eppes. He wasn't supposed to get drunk just to forget the horrors of the day. So he drank deeply again from the bottle and then threw it out the car window. He hated this; he used to be able to deal with the pressures of the job, but now…..

He turned on the radio for background noise, because to be honest, sitting alone in the dark was starting to creep him out. He heard a melancholy tune and it made him think of foggy graveyards and tortured souls.

_Suicide is painless  
It brings on many changes  
and I can take or leave it if I please_

_The game of life is hard to play  
I'm gonna lose it anyway  
the losing card I'll someday lay  
so this is all I have to say:_

_Huh_, Don thought, _never heard that before_. It somehow described how he was feeling; if he was going to die anyway, he'd rather it be by his own hand than by the bullet of some crazy son-of-a-bitch.

Deeming he was sober enough, Don drove back to his apartment and did something he hadn't done since his days playing minor-league baseball. He sat in the bathroom, on the ledge that the bathtub provided and cut into his wrist with a razor blade. Don immediately felt the pleasure that the alcohol couldn't give him. It stung, but in a good life-affirming way. It made him feel alive and not like the mechanical robot he had been feeling like the past few weeks. Craving the feeling again, he sliced horizontal cuts up and down his forearms, the blood cascading to land in a puddle on his jean-clad thigh.

He sighed and thought back to the song he heard in the car, what was it about again? Oh yeah, suicide. Don sat there and thought how easy it would be to just dig the blade in a little deeper and he would never have to deal with the pressures of the job again. His mind turned to who would miss him. Charlie was busy with Amita; Dad could finally focus all his attention on Charlie. David would finally be able to take over as SAC after Don was gone and he probably wouldn't be so hard on Colby. He didn't have a girlfriend recently and Don realized that he had never felt so alone. He turned the blade so it lay vertically along his forearm. He was just about to press the blade into his skin when his phone rang loudly. He opened it:

"Eppes," he said his voice a little hoarse.

"Hey, Don. Sorry to call so late," Colby's voice sounded cautious, it was well after midnight at this point.

"Not a problem, what is it, Colb?"

"Nothing, just couldn't sleep," he took a pause before asking "Hey, do you wanna come over and watch a movie or something?"

Don knew they had work tomorrow and it would be a bad idea to stay up so late, but he felt like he needed someone right now.

"Sure thing, Colby; I'll be over in ten."

Don cleaned up the bathroom and used some hydrogen peroxide on his cuts. He wrapped some gauze over his forearm and after changing his blood stained jeans, slid a long sleeved shirt over his head.

He arrived at Colby's apartment exactly ten minutes later. He and Colby silently made their way to the couch and sat down.

"Top Gun or Dirty Dancing?" Colby asked.

"Dirty Dancing," Don replied.

Colby popped the disk into the DVD player and went down the hallway for a short time before he came back with a large blanket. He sat down and draped it over himself and Don. Don muttered his thanks and settled back to watch the movie.

In truth, Don stopped watching the movie after Baby was carrying watermelons. He was more aware of the fact that Colby had fallen asleep with his head on Don's shoulder and was making little sleep noises. Don thought it was kind of weird but was enjoying that _someone _was thinking about him enough to draw comfort from his presence. Maybe he shouldn't have tried to kill himself earlier. Now the thought disgusted him, how could he even think about leaving when he had a wonderful team and a great family?

"Hey Colb?" Don said softly.

Colby groaned to let Don know he was listening.

"You're a lifesaver"

Colby grumbled something and snuggled deeper into his shoulder, his arms looping around Don's waist.

Don felt himself falling asleep after that, just as the movie was ending and Colby's head fell into his lap. He stroked Colby's soft hair and rubbed his back laughing softly when the ex-soldier inhaled deeply and started snoring so lightly it could be mistaken for loud breathing.

_How could I ever think of leaving this?_ Don mentally kicked himself before his eyelids became to heavy and he started snoring softly too.

**So...what did you think? If you loved it, hated it or anything in between let me know and review! BTW should there be more chapters? A sequal maybe? I'll work on it. But in the mean time...the review button is right there.**


	2. Chapter 2

Colby woke up about an hour or so after he fell asleep. He lifted his head up and looked around, blushing slightly when he realized his head was in his boss' lap. _Uh oh_ he thought. Half awake; he shifted himself so he his head was on the armrest of the other side of the couch. Just as he was falling back to sleep he heard a mumbling noise coming from Don.

"Don?" Colby whispered, "You awake?"

He started snoring lightly again.

Although Colby could only pick out words and phrases, he guessed that Don was a sleep talker. And judging by what he was saying, Don was reliving their last case in his dreams.

"Search party…find them….too late…._hurts_…" He mumbled.

Colby got up on his elbows to make sure Don was still asleep. _What hurt?_ He looked Don over and even in the dim light he didn't seem to have any bruises. _Wait, what's that on his arm?_ One of Don's sleeves rode up a bit and Colby could see that his entire forearm was bandaged up. He reached up to grab Don's arm but stopped when he started talking again.

"My fault….dead…too young….my fault…"

He stared at Don hard, _He knows the case wasn't his fault right?_ As he looked at Don, he couldn't help but notice how cute Don looked when he was asleep. His hair was slightly ruffled and he looked so peaceful. Colby noticed how Don's arms were muscled perfectly and he couldn't help but wonder how many other muscles Don was hiding beneath that shirt.

Colby fell asleep again after that and his dreams were full of a shirtless Don chasing criminals around a baseball field.  
_

At six A.M. Don woke up with a huge yawn and a throbbing pain in his left arm. _Where am I?_ As he looked around, the events of last night came crashing back to him. He remembered the cliff, the bottle, the cuts and Colby. _Where was Colby anyway?_ Don looked around again and the blonde was nowhere to be seen.

"Colb?" he called out.

"In here," he heard Colby's strong voice come from the kitchen

Walking in, Don stopped dead in his tracks. There was Colby making a pot of coffee and wearing a pair of tight jeans and no shirt. Don tried not stare, but failed miserably. He found himself raking his eyes over Colby's chiseled arms and flat stomach; and it didn't help the Colby's jeans left almost nothing to the imagination. He could see his toned legs and the outline of his cock. Right now Don thought he would do just about anything to have Colby's warm body pressed against his own—

"Don?"

"Huh? Oh, uh sorry, Colby. Did you say something?" a blush crept up Dons face and settled on his cheekbones and the tips of his ears.

"Yeah, do you want some coffee before you go?"

"Sure," Don watched as Colby poured him a mug of the energizing liquid and they both sat down at the small table in the kitchen.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Colby spoke up.

"So what happened to your arm?"

_Shit. Shit. Shit! _Don felt his heart rate pick up as he tried to think of an excuse.

"Oh, uh….it's nothing Colby….just scratched it on the edge of my desk." _Smooth, Eppes_; _couldn't come up with anything better?_

Colby wondered why Don would bandage it up like that if it was just a scratch, but shook it off. Don probably had his reasons.

"Oh, well if you need any pain killers they're in the bathroom."

"I think I'll be fine, Colby. But I think I should be going, got a lot of paperwork to do now that the case is finished."

Colby showed Don the door and Don said his goodbyes before climbing into his black escalade and heading back to his own apartment.

**Sorry this one's short. I've been busy and haven't been able to update. The next chapter will be better, but I won't put one up unless** **I get more reviews! (I'm thinking like five or six more….not too hard). So go fishing, eat a pineapple, paint your dog, and review this story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I own absolutely nothing. Also, since this is my first story, no explicit smut. ENJOY & REVIEW!**

_Wow_, Don thought, _that was close_. He was driving his car back to his apartment and arrived five minutes after leaving Colby's house and after turning the key in the lock, he walked in. His place looked exactly the same as when he left it, slightly untidy but presentable for the most part. It smelled lightly of gunpowder, too, which Don idly thought he should do something about.

After a quick shower, Don rewrapped his left forearm, got dressed in a crisp white shirt, some black slacks and a matching blazer, grabbed some more coffee and headed out to start his day at work.

He arrived at work earlier than the rest of his team, as usual; but upon arrival he could just _feel_ that today would be nothing important, probably just paperwork from the previous case that had gotten Don so wound up; but boy was he _wrong_.

_Fast forward about three hours._

"Okay, do we have an I.D. on the suspect?" asked Don, who had arrived on the scene to find horde of police cars and SWAT vans parked inside of the building where a sixteen year old boy was being held hostage by his crazy uncle with homicidal tendencies.

"Not yet," David answered, "but the hostage is Neil Adams. We haven't been in contact with either yet, so there's not a lot we can tell about this scene."

"Okay, get to working on it." At David's curt nod, Don addressed the rest of the investigators and hostage situation technicians, "Alright listen up, we want both of them out alive, so get whatever information you can and report back to me. If, for any reason gunfire is needed, pull your guns but don't shoot unless absolutely necessary; we have trained snipers to do the dirty work."

Don finished his sentence and turned around to see if he could get more information about the case from one of his teammates, but was abruptly stopped himself to keep from bumping in to Ian Edgerton when he found him standing right in front of him.

"Dirty work, Eppes?" Ian chided jokingly, "I thought you had more respect for my position…. After all, I am fourth best shot in the country."

"Ian, I didn't hear you coming," Don said; it was true, Don had no idea that Ian was behind him, though he expected something from the man after he made the remark about snipers.

"They never do," Ian said almost creepily, "but it's part of the job, you know?" he patted Don on the shoulder and Don visibly winced when the vibrations cascaded down his arm and made his cuts throb.

"You okay, Don? What happened to your arm?" Ian asked, his dark eyes shifted from Don's own brown eyes to the bandage on his forearm.

"Just an accident, Ian, don't worry about it."

Ian opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of yelling coming from inside the building.

"I better go take my position on the roof, see you later, Don." Don said his farewell and sincerely hoped that all this wouldn't end badly.

But today, everything seemed against him and it ended bloody, the suspect, Jack Adams was shot by Ian, but not before Jack managed to put a bullet in his nephew's shoulder, grazing an artery. Neil was being treated for his extensive blood loss, but Don still worried; being that young and getting shot had to be traumatic.

O0o0o0o0o0o0

He made his way back into the apartment and immediately collapsed on his couch, too exhausted to even make his way to his bed. He put his gun under the coffee table, slid out of his blazer and started to doze on the couch, too tired to care that his back would hurt like hell in the morning.

TBC

**Sorry it took me forever, I'm spending a month in Houston and things are pretty busy here….not to mention HOT! Anyway, I really hate this chapter and there WAS more to it, but I deleted it and decided to use it for chapter 4. So you know what to do…read, review, eat some pineapple and try not to get addicted to heroin in the process! I love all of you to pieces (the people that review anyway) so BYE! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello, again! Hope you've been enjoying the story because I know I haven't! I just reread my last chapter and that sucked, but anyway, you know the drill. I OWN NOTHING. Read, review and maybe this chapter won't come out as bad. I don't know yet, so let's hope! Also I have no plan for this story; I'm just writing whatever comes out, so feel free to give me ideas!**

Don moaned in his sleep, hips rutting up against the couch in a fluid motion, his dreams full of a certain blond teammate that just happened to be wearing nothing at all.

"Colby," Don moaned out, his mind filled with images of the ex-soldier writhing under Don, screaming his name. What Don was doing to the farm boy would no doubt send a blush creeping up his face if he were awake. But he wasn't, he was kissing, and licking and thrusting until—

"Mnph!" Don moaned a final time before his own orgasm woke him.

His eyes snapped open and he felt a little disoriented, not to mention a bit flustered, until he realized where he was.

_Shit_, Don cursed to himself as he got up from his couch, the front of his slacks sticky and wet. He checked the time; 2:30 AM and went to his bedroom to change out of his ruined pants and hopefully get some shut-eye before work.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Colby sat straight up in his bed after a long night of trying to go to sleep, but failing miserably. His mind was whirring around, trying to figure out _why_ he was having feelings for Don, his boss, his mentor. Colby knew he wasn't gay…right? Back in Idaho such things were frowned upon because the norm was to grow up on you family's farm, meet a pretty young girl, get married and then start your own farm. It was a tradition Colby rarely thought about until this…_situation _came up. It confused Colby and he didn't like it.

He got up from his bed and walked into his living room, sitting on the couch; _the same couch me and Don sat on._ He thought, but he stopped himself there; thinking of his boss was not something high on his to-do-list. So he sat on the couch, watched some TV to try and distract him from his own thoughts.

It worked, to an extent. _Dirty Dancing _showed on the Hallmark channel, and Colby had to force himself to turn off the TV and climb back into his bed. _Don and I watched that together. That's when we I fell asleep in his lap. God, I wish we could do that again, but instead of sleeping—whoa, Colby! Get a hold of yourself; he's your boss! Your very straight, very woman loving boss!_

So Colby settled back into his bed and closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come soon.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Don was soon softly snoring under the soft sheets of his bed, his body exhausting itself earlier in the night. But as he slept, his mind filled itself with the horrors of his day. He dreamt of Neil Adams being covered with a white sheet and his uncle being freed from prison. He dreamt that it was his fault the young boy had died, even though his conscious self knew Neil was still in the ICU. He also dreamt that Colby had been in the line of fire when things went bad. Images of the agent lying on the floor next to a bloody Neil, blood pouring from his chest and eyes glazed over scared Don and suddenly he woke up, eyes wide and breathing heavy for an entire different reason than before.

Don walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face, trying to calm himself down, but he was still hyperventilating. Suddenly, something glimmered in the corner of his eye, catching his attention. It was a razor blade; the same razor blade from the night he spent with Colby and gradually, he felt the blood in his arms hum to be let out; like it was begging to be spilled.

Without thinking, he grabbed it and stared at it, hanging loosely between his thumb and forefinger. When the guilt began to overcome him, he dragged the blade into his forearm, making new cuts next to the older ones that were still healing. When he sliced more cuts on his arms, he began to feel calmer. His hyperventilating stopped, his mind wasn't everywhere and it felt collected. He cut into his arm again, the blood forming in thick droplets before spilling over and trailing down his arm. He did this again and again, until he felt satisfied. He washed off the blade, put it on the shelf and got to work cleaning his wounds.

While he was cleaning his cuts, he stopped to stare at them. He noticed the cuts were scattered, going from horizontal to diagonal and he cut way more lines than he usually did. There were about twenty (give or take) on each forearm and they were rather deep. But, being Don Eppes, he told himself that he could handle it and wrapped gauze around both his forearms. _This will be way hard to hide._ He kicked himself at his stupidity; _why didn't I do it somewhere easier to hide?_

But he decided not to dwell on the negatives, as that would lead to him cutting again, probably until he passed out from blood loss.

So he walked into his kitchen and filled a glass with cold water. While he was draining it, he felt something sticky on his arms and looked down. Red blood was soaking through the gauze, dripping down and landing in two small puddles on the floor and suddenly Don felt very, very dizzy.

He swayed on his feet as he looked down into the puddles, which were steadily growing larger. He struggled to remember where he put his phone so he could call someone—anyone—for help. He spotted it sitting innocently on the kitchen table and grabbed it. He started to feel more and more dizzy, and is vision was blacking out at the edges. He dialed the first number that came to mind and sincerely hoped that he had gotten the numbers in the right order.

"Hello?" Colby's voice seemed faint to Don, even though he had the phone pressed against his ear. "Don?"

"_Help_," He rasped, his voice nothing but a whisper before dropping the phone and going unconscious.

**Phew! That was a long one to write. I promise I will update more soon and PLEASE review! How will I know people actually read this story unless I get reviews? Oh well, I'm not gonna force it. I kind of actually liked this chapter and the mini cliff-hanger at the end there was fun to write. I need ideas for this story, so lay 'em on me! I love all of you so much (even if you don't review) and I promise more updates soon. Also, I think I'm dying of heatstroke in Houston, but it's owl good. REVIEW.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Wow, I just read some of my reviews and I feel showered with love! Thanks guys. I also have NO idea where this is going so suggestions and ideas are welcomed. Also, sorry this took forever, the little details were bugging me.**

Just as Colby was finally falling asleep, he heard his phone ring shrilly through the darkness of his bedroom. He wished he could ignore it, but in his line of work that was a big no-no. So his hand fumbled around on the bedside table, looking for the small object. When he found it, the caller ID told him it was Don, so he opened it and answered.

"Hello?" Colby asked, but after a few moments of silence, he started to get worried. "Don?"

"_Help_" Don's voice was so quiet, Colby wasn't even sure if he heard him right; but when he heard the unmistakable sound of the phone clattering to the floor, he jumped up, quickly put on some shorts and left the plain white shirt he slept in on his body. He grabbed his keys and cell phone, and all but ran to his car.

The ride to Don's apartment was agonizingly slow for Colby. He knew he was breaking many speed limits on the way, but he didn't care. This was _Don._

When he got to Don's place, he was shocked to find the door unlocked. _That's weird_, Colby thought. He pushed the door open and made his way inside, pausing to look the place over. He didn't see Don, so he assumed he was behind one of the walls concealing Colby from his boss. He cautiously moved forward, but then picked up the pace, knowing Don could be dying somewhere in the small space of his home.

He rushed into the kitchen and was shocked to find Don lying face down next to the kitchen table with his arms at his sides, blood pooling around them.

"Don!" Colby hurried to his boss' side and felt his neck for a pulse. He found one, but it was quickly fading. He turned Don over so he could see where his bleeding was coming from and was horrified to see that Don had more gauze wrapped around both his forearms, though they seemed to be soaked through. _What happened here?_

First aid training kicking in, Colby took off his white shirt and moved Don's arms so they were closer together; then he wrapped his shirt around Don's arms, making it look like Don was in some weird form of handcuffs.

"Hang in there, Don."

Colby knew that the shirt would do minimal to stem the flow of blood, so he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

By the time the ambulance came to Don's apartment, Colby's shirt was a deep red with spots of white here and there. But he really didn't care. He watched as Don was put on a gurney and wheeled out of the apartment, a breathing mask attached to his pale face.

"Sir, do you want to ride in the ambulance with him?" Colby jumped, he had been so focused on Don that he barely heard the paramedic walk towards him.

"Yes." Colby wanted to say more, but he felt so disconnected. He kept his mouth shut and climbed into the ambulance.

The whole ride there Colby couldn't stop staring at Don's face. He was so pale and he looked lifeless; but the slow rising of his chest told otherwise. With each minute, Colby could hear the portable heart monitors begin to slow down and he was absolutely terrified that he would lose Don. He wanted to cry, but he knew he had to keep a hold on his emotions right now; he had to stay calm.

O0o0o0o0o0o00o

On arrival to the hospital, Colby was told to sit in the waiting room while Don was brought into surgery, and after four hours, Colby was the only one sitting in the small room.

His mind was busy trying to figure out why Don had been bleeding, but he wasn't really paying attention to that part of his brain. A greater part was focusing on the memory Don's face. How it looked so pale when the ambulance arrived. He found himself praying to twenty different gods that Don would be okay. He _needed_ Don to be okay.

He got up and paced, realizing just then that he was still shirtless as the cold air of the room hit his bare chest. But that wasn't important. All he could think about was Don's face, Don's chest slowly rising and falling, Don's _blood_. _Why was there so much blood?_

He had the image of Don bleeding on the floor burned into his mind and it scared him, so he started pacing faster; only stopping when he got tired to tracking imaginary patterns on the floor with his feet. He sat down in the chair closest to the window, and faced the glass.

He peered out and he could see that it was nighttime. The stars were glittering feebly overhead and the moon was half full. Even with his face six inches away from the glass, Colby could feel that it was chilly outside. The coldness of the glass reminded Colby of how Don's skin felt in his small apartment kitchen. The scene of finding Don kept replaying itself in his head and suddenly, he felt overwhelmed; and in his rush to save Don, he knew virtually nothing about the crime scene and it seemed that _he couldn't stay still._

He started bouncing his foot in the chair and drumming his fingers lightly against the arm rest; each digit making a slight _thud_ as it landed. _This is gonna be a long night._

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Colby jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder and looked up to see a male doctor, dressed in scrubs, standing over him.

"Family of Don Eppes?" He asked. Colby nodded and made a mental note to himself to call Alan after he saw Don. He _was_ going to see Don because he _was_ still alive.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Wes Taylor. Don lost a lot of blood and we had to give him a blood transfusion. He also needed eighty-six stitches. But we believe he'll be okay; he's in a stable condition. He isn't awake yet, but you can go see him if you like."

"Thank you, Doctor."

Dr. Taylor led Colby to the door of Don's room and Colby took a deep breath before stepping inside. When he stepped in, he was hit with a strong smell of rubbing alcohol and machines hooked up to Don were whirring and buzzing and beeping. His eyes followed all the tubes and wires and landed on the breathing mass that was Don.

His face had a bit more color to it, but he had a tube in his throat and his heart beat was still too slow for Colby's liking. _Or maybe my heart is still racing._ He also had thicker bandages around his arms; it took Colby a second, but when he finally realized what the bandages were for, his eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat.

He stood next to Don and stared at his face; a silent question in his mind. _Why?_

Colby had heard about many suicide cases in his early army years; a buddy of his told him that someone living in their barracks used a knife to cut his wrists open and he bled to death. He was smart enough to assume the same thing happened here; though he wasn't sure why.

_Why would don do this? He's got a good job, a great family, and it's not like nobody likes him. He's got tons of friends._ Now Colby realized where all the blood came from and why there was so much. _It must've been an artery._ He sat down next to don's bed, still endlessly staring at his face. "Why, Don?"

An even heavier weight was lifted onto his shoulders when he remembered the feelings he had for Don earlier. _Do I really like him? Like that?_ Colby already knew the answer before he asked it. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the memory of falling asleep on the couch with Don and how he caught Don staring at his bare torso like it was the most amazing thing ever. _C'mon, Colby. Don was half-asleep, you were just imagining things._ But the more Colby tried to convince himself, the more he felt himself falling in love with his boss.

He cautiously slid his hand into one of Don's, carefully avoiding the bandages. He interlocked their fingers and stared at their hands, laced together, and thought how perfect they looked. Their way their fingers fit just right and how their palms molded together gave Colby hope that Don would make it through this. That _they_ would make it through this.

By now, it was four in the morning, and the adrenaline Colby felt when finding Don ran out and he found himself feeling exhausted. He squeezed Don's hand lightly and dozed off, finding comfort in the warmth that Don's hand had to offer.

O0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Colby was already fast asleep when Don's hand squeezed back and a silent tear rolled down his cheek. He'd been awake for a while, watching Colby through half lidded eyes. And he could easily read the expressions of fear, confusion and most importantly, love. When Colby laced their fingers together and fell asleep with his hand in Don's, he knew that the man sitting here next to him, the same man that saved his life, was the person he was falling in love with.

As he realized what could've happened if Colby hadn't been there, he started to feel guilty. _I should've been able to control the urge. Why do I do this? I could've lost him._

That thought hit him like a brick wall and he let a silent tear escape before the morphine caught up with him and he was unconscious once again.

**Wow, rough night for the boys huh? Sorry it took forever, I have a house full of people that don't speak English and any attempt to get away long enough to write was seen as me being "anti-social". So anyway, tell me what you think, I love reviews because they tell me if I suck or not so leave plenty. All reviews are appreciated but not required. You know the drill; find a frog, name it Chuck, all day long you'll have good luck….That's so not how it goes but anyway eat LOTS of pineapple and please leave your thought and comments in the reviews. **

**P.S. Anyone in Houston notice all the homeless people? **

**P.S.S I have no Beta, so feel free to correct any mistakes in the reviews**


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry for such a long wait, I've written and rewritten this chapter four times and I can't find anything that I'm completely happy with…..plus I've been watching wayyy too much Family Guy…. But anyway, here's the finished product (finally) hope you enjoy!**

Don could hear voices; they sound a little bit muffled, but they were coming into focus. He kept his eyes shut and listened in on the conversation.

"—really should get him some help! Should he even be allowed his job?" That voice sounded _pissed. _"I mean, what kind of an agent would do that to himself? He's obviously not sane!"

"Listen he's going through a really rough time," That voice sounded like Colby's. "He just needs therapy, or counseling or whatever. He's a good agent. I bet when he wakes up, he'll be able to explain—"

"I don't want him to explain! I need to know that he isn't an immediate threat to himself or others. He could be dangerous!" There was that voice again, though Don couldn't pinpoint it, he knew he had heard it somewhere before.

"He's not dangerous." Colby's voice sounded as though he was trying to convince himself more than the mystery man.

"Oh, did he tell you that before he _cut his wrists_!? Agent Granger, I don't think you understand the magnitude of this situation. One of our own agents almost killed himself!"

Colby stayed silent for a while before finally speaking up,

"How will Agent Eppes be affected? Will he lose his job?"

The pissed off voice let out a sigh before answering,

"No, but he will be required to see a therapist that we will provide for him. He will also be relieved of his gun and he will not work any field work for three months for recovery and… other reasons." The voice didn't sound so mad now, but still a little miffed.

"I think he can handle that, thank you, sir."

Don heard heavy footsteps getting softer and softer as his room door opened and closed, leaving just him and Colby once again.

"Hey Don….. don't know if you can hear me or not, but I called Alan and Charlie, they'll be let in a little later and the rest of the team is sitting in the waiting room, waiting for you to spring back to consciousness." Don felt one of Colby's hands slide into his own. "They need you to wake up, Don…._I _need you to wake up." That sentence made Don listen just a little more closely, "I think I would be totally lost without you…..I think….I think I love you." Don was surprised that the heart monitor didn't catch the way his heart skipped a beat. "What am I saying? You probably can't even hear me. I guess I'm a coward to tell you this while you're unconscious but hey, is there a better time? I guess now I can get this feeling off my chest and not get rejected. Win, win, huh?" Colby's voice sounded so miserable and heart breaking. "Just remember to wake up…please?" Suddenly Don felt a pair of soft lips against his own, gently brushing past them before leaving his lips feeling bare. He heard Colby's footsteps grow quieter and quieter until they disappeared, leaving him feeling completely and utterly alone.

**Sorry this is so short and kind of rushed. I'm kind of writing on borrowed time. Just when I was thinking "Home Sweet Home", I remember I have to be in Dallas for another day. So It's traveling from Houston to Dallas ….I know what you're thinking…. "Who the **_**hell **_**cares?" Well, I'm just telling you that I might be busy for a while so chapters will be coming less often. Oh no, I'm starting to ramble…. I'm gonna cut to the chase:**

**PLEASE REVIEW AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!**


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